


Patton's Interlude

by Kitkatzgr8



Series: Corpse Groom [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Awkward Conversations, Corpse Bride AU, F/M, First Meeting, I wanna give Patton all the hugs, M/M, Not my fav thing I've written but...., Stuttering, This story got quite a bit of attention I'm so surprised???, Virgil is good at piano, characterization is hard, sanders sides corpse bride au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 05:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkatzgr8/pseuds/Kitkatzgr8
Summary: When Virgil was told moments before meeting his future husband that he was engaged to be married, he didn't quite expect... this...(In which an awkward, socially-starved puffball and an anxious, self-deprecating bean meet for the first time)





	Patton's Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> So, as I was writing Part III, I realized that, while I had planned out Virgil and Patton's meeting, I hadn't actually written it. Thinking it was too late in the story to add it as the next part, but it still containing important information (like how I can't write conversations h e l p) I thought I'd insert it between Part II and Part III. Not as a part itself, but as more of... an interlude.
> 
> More specifically, Patton's Interlude.

“Oh, Lord and Lady Heart, what an absolute delight…”

Virgil was gone before his parent’s sickeningly sweet introduction had been finished. He knew neither of the parents would notice or care about his presence, based on their attitude towards him as soon as he had shown up on the doorstep. Dismissive, disgusted, disappointed, whatever emotion he had felt directed towards him, it was fine. He couldn’t worry about how his future parents-in-law thought of him. Right now, he needed to get out, to find a place alone, alone where he could finally breathe, where he could finally think through and have a moment to figure out what he was going to do, to have a moment that his parents hadn’t allowed him before they had gotten out of the carriage and walked the long cobblestone path to Lord Heart’s manor. Before Virgil was to meet him.

 _Him_.

Virgil’s soon-to-be husband.

Apparently, the arrangements had been made ages ago, Virgil’s mother had told him as she straightened his tie, jostling into his father as the carriage hit a loose stone. Questioning what arrangements exactly she was referring to, she had merely sighed, then stated in an annoyed tone ( _because obviously, dear, what else could I possibly be referring to?_ ) that Virgil’s marriage arrangements had finally been made. That, finally, they had been able to find a suitor for their poor child, ( _and thank goodness they had never actually met you, dear, because then it would’ve been near impossible, so praise the heavens for that_ ), and that they would be married at the week’s end.

“And to a Lord of all people! Oh Virgil, aren’t you so proud I managed to score a rank of that height? You are our ticket up in the world!” his mother had squealed, pinching his cheek a bit too harshly as he stared ahead, dead to the world.

“M-Married,” he had stuttered numbly, looking out the window to see a stone manor looming in the distance. The Heart’s manor, of all places.

His mother had sighed, fixing his tie again. “Dear, what have I said about the stuttering? And I know, I know, such dreadful times we have fallen into for this to be our only option. A man and a man, utterly dreadful! Bad for the name, but then again, with a name like Heart, it’s not like anyone is going to do anything about it? Desperate times call for desperate measures, and you’ll just have to do. And thank goodness they were in enough of a hurry to pair off their son for you to even be an option, dear. But, yes, oh how dreadful, the only heir the Heart’s have now is their son, bless their hearts. Oh! Did you see what I just did? Hearts? Their surname is Heart? Bless their _hearts_?” Giggling wildly, she fanned her face. “Oh, I am going to be such an amazing mother-in-law. And to a Lord, of all things, bless our souls!”

“Thank goodness you have a girlish physique,” was all his father commented before the carriage stopped, and then they were up the path, up the steps, and he was staring into the unforgiving eyes of Lord Heart...

...And now he was lost, having had blindly thrown his slim frame through the nearest cracked door in the hallway, holding his breath with his back pressed against the peeling wallpaper of the side hall as the parents continued their meaningless conversations about the weather and the wedding. After he had been sure that the adults had moved on, he had made his way down the hall, ducking in and out of rooms with the sole purpose of _getting away get out get out no air breathe why can’t I breathe-_

Any sound indicating movement and life, he had left in hallways long behind him. He was in an even dustier wing of the manor now, with candles lighting his way becoming fewer and farther in between. Finally, he grabbed a candelabra in his shaking hand to guide his way, forcing himself to take a deep breath of the dust-filled air so he didn’t pass out on the rotting carpet. 

And then he was in a room with no exit other than the one he had entered in. Weakly pushing the door closed behind him, he just managed to set the candelabra on a grimy dresser by the door before he fell to his knees, arms hugging himself as he struggled to regain his breath.

He couldn’t care less about who his soon-to-be-partner was. Male, female, anything in between (though he felt that, romantically, he was more partial to men), lord, lady, fishmonger, or a hermit, take your pick, he didn’t care. But he had always known… well, at least, always assumed, he’d be able to pick. That he’d be able to make a choice. Or, rather, that he would make the choice to be alone, for who would want to spend their life trapped in the life-long bonds of marriage with someone like him? But no, now he was here, now he was engaged, and now his future husband was within the same walls as him and now _he still couldn’t breathe-_

 _Focus. Focus on the things in this room, on everything around. Focus on anything but that._ Forcing his head up, Virgil looked frantically around the room, trying in vain to find something to drag him out of this pit he was falling into within his own mind. _Count, count the things, list them in your mind._

Chair. Bed. Royal red sheets. Dusty, everything dusty, so much dust. Tipped over table. Books lining the walls. Poetry. He could see the swirling letters of Shakespeare adorning the spine of the book in front of him. And paper, so much paper, scattered on the walls and falling to the floor in a frozen water slide of white sheets and black writing.

His breathing slowed slightly, and he managed to blink away the tears filling his eyes to give him a clearer vision of the room. More details leapt out at him, and he continued listing them to himself.

Ripped pillows. Feathers, feathers all over the room. Closed window, been closed for a long time. Light streaming in through cracks in the dusty glass. Sheets on bed in disarray. Poetry, ripped to shreds. Fragments of papers scattered everywhere. A mangled family portrait tilting perilously to the side on the water-warped walls. Broken shards of polished brown wood trailing under his knees to…

His eyes followed the trail, then widened as they saw the vague shape of a familiar object hidden in the darkest corner of the room.

A grand piano.

His breathing was slowing now, and, momentary panic forgotten as he forced himself to stand on shaky legs, he forced his trembling arm to grab the candelabra.

He hadn’t seen a piano in so long. They used to own one, which Virgil would practice on after his lessons. But once it became too much of a distraction, once he was getting too good at it, and once it was said that lowlife boys like him shouldn’t be focusing on the frivolity of the arts, it was gone from their dining room, leaving a gaping hole that not even an extra table for guests could fill.

Before he knew it, Virgil was there, taking in a sharp breath as the light from the candle illuminated the polished oak of the grand piano before him. An absolute masterpiece of an instrument if he ever saw one. The man briefly wondered why such a fantastic piano was set in one of the most seemingly forgotten rooms in the manor, but then he was reminiscing the feel of the notes beneath his fingers, and that thought was lost to the music lilting through his mind.

Virgil ran his fingers over the polished wooden lid, almost shivering at how soft the wood was to the touch. Surprisingly, despite the state of the room around it, the piano was obviously well taken care of. Not a speck of dust came away onto his fingers, which laid in thick contrast to any other given object in the room.

His fingers ran over a bump in the otherwise seamless lid, and, curious, he looked down to examine the indent curiously. There appeared to be a name carved into the wood, right along the edge of the lid, but the letters were worn from touch, the word illegible.

Now that he was looking closely, he saw more blemishes in the polished brown surface. Lines spread out in spider web of cracks, weaving in between thicker cracks that could not be fixed, but merely slotted together like a puzzle. Examining a canyon of a crack through the middle of the lid, Virgil frowned. It almost looked as if the piano had been broken apart only to be meticulously put back together. Careful twists of twine now held a piece near the back in place, and, looping around for a look at the side parallel to the wall, he saw that a whole section of the grand piano lid was missing, splintery pieces prickling the air as if a great beast had come and taken a bite out of the wood. A quick kneel showed that an entire leg of the piano was missing, the beautiful instrument listing the slightest bit to the side from the unevenness that a stack of books wasn’t quite the right height to remedy. Carefully, almost reverently, Virgil made his way to the front of the instrument, and lithe fingers gripping the polished wood, gently raised the lid covering the keys.

Though still in decent shape for the damage it had suffered, it was clear that whoever was keeping the piano in such condition had not played it in quite a while. The keys were dusted with a layer of grime, and a few ivory rectangles were even missing. Most of the keys seemed to have some flaw or another- a crack there, a nick there- but all had been put back together in the same, meticulous fashion the rest of the piano had been. Obviously, this beautiful instrument had been through a lot and was still kept in decent repair. Yet, it remaining in a dusty, unused bedroom, far from sight, and certainly not in any place anyone could hear its music. And, for all the upkeep, why had nobody played it in so long?

Noticing another inconsistency in the dull white and black pattern of keys, Virgil gently plucked a folded up paper tucked into one of the missing key holes. Gingerly unfolding it, the paper so thin and worn it felt as though it would disintegrate in his hands if handled without care, he gently smoothed it out on the lid, then held it to the candlelight to examine it.

The sheet music was well worn, having been folded, scribbled over and revised so many times that the notes were barely legible. The title on the top was faded as well, and Virgil had to squint to try and read the loopy handwriting. All he could make out was a couple letters, ‘P… t… h?’ Or maybe the ‘h’ was an ‘n.’

He looked at the notes, which were still readable if he squinted, then back at the door to the hallway. Listening carefully for any sign that someone was nearby, he looked at the sheet music, and then this time down at the worn piano keys.

...He really hadn’t played in so long. Rusty and out of practice, he was sure that whatever he managed to plunk out would be ear wrenching and full of mistakes.

But still, he eyed the keys again. He was far from the parents now and, in the deepest corner of the manor, seemed to be far from any forms of life in general. He couldn’t hear them, and hopefully, that statement would hold true the other way around.

It couldn’t hurt to just… try, could it? Being sure to be gentle with the paper, Virgil nervously straightened the creases again as he read the music. It didn’t seem too difficult. A simple melody that would be perfect for a bit of practice.

Gingerly sitting down on the creaking piano bench, Virgil gently placed the sheet music on the stand, then cracked his knuckles as he nervously scoped out the room again. Nobody was around, and even if they were, he was sure that he wouldn’t get in trouble for it. It was just a piano, wasn’t it? It wasn’t a sin to play… was it?

And then he was slowly playing the introductory notes to the piece, feeling his thoughts fall away as his fingertips dusted the surface of the keys.

He was gone from the manor, gone from the town, gone from the responsibilities placed on his shoulders, gone from the arranged marriage that had sent him spiraling. It was just him. Him alone with the music. The notes bled from one to the other, and the bittersweet melody wrapped around him comfortingly, filling his ears with music instead of dark thoughts, eyes seeing the faded notes and nothing else. He slowed, and then sped into the next measure, slender fingers dancing over the keys as both hands took part in a heartfelt waltz across the black and white.

Time seemed to stop, slow down, and speed up at the same time, and suddenly he was more than halfway through the song, rusty fingers occasionally hitting the wrong key, but continuing nonetheless. The climax was coming, and he leaped into it with a grin, hands and fingers crossing over one another as the volume slowly built up, melody growing faster and faster until-

A muffled sound from the doorway made his fingers stumble in surprise, and suddenly he was back in the dusty, forgotten room of the manor. His heart was in his throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from turning around at neck-breaking speed to see who or what was there. He almost didn’t see them, dark clothes blending with the gloom of the room. And then, the candle held in their hand sputtered to its full height, and a flash of light was thrown over the figure standing in the doorway. The twisting candlelight revealed a young man, hand not holding the candelabra clasped over his mouth, eyes sparkling with unshed tears behind black-rimmed glasses. A smattering of freckles danced their way over the bridge of his nose, giving the rounded face a youthful look, setting Virgil’s mind into a panic. There was only one person in this manor besides the Lord and Lady that would be so well dressed and around his age. He felt his hands instinctively grab at his sleeves, and he realized that his breath was being held in anticipation at the young Lord’s (his future husband’s?) inevitable anger at delving so far into this house that was not his.

Their eyes stayed connected for a moment, and then the other let his hand fall to his side to reveal that… he was smiling sweetly at the other.

Virgil felt his breath stick in his throat, and then felt his shoulders relax slightly. The man looked kind, and based on the brightest smile Virgil had ever seen spread across his face, he wasn’t in any serious trouble. Still, he gently closed the lid of the piano, then regretfully stood up and turned away from the instrument.

“I a-apologize,” he said quickly, bowing slightly towards the other as he nervously pulled at his suit coat sleeve. “I sh-shouldn’t have been s-so quick t-to….”

“That was beautiful,” the other man said quietly, voice cracking with emotion, and Virgil looked back up to see that he was still smiling (how anyone could smile so brightly, especially in a house as dark as this, was beyond him). “I haven’t heard that piano played in so long… nor that… that song…”

And before Virgil could move to stutter another apology, he found himself in a warm and comforting embrace. He was sure his heart had stopped now, and his breath caught in his throat as he realized the man had all but run across the room to pull him into a hug. Though he wasn’t the tallest person in the town, the other was even shorter than he, burying his face in Virgil’s shoulder as his chin resting comfortably on the other man’s head of golden brown curls. “Thank you,” he felt a soft breath whisper in his ear, and then the other had pulled away. A small part of Virgil yearned for the hug to have lasted a bit longer; he had almost forgotten how much he used to enjoy those warm embraces; but he quickly shoved that thought down as he looked at the other.

Both stared at each other, and then Virgil’s eyes darted away while the other giggled nervously, adjusting his glasses. “Oh, uh, sorry. I shouldn’t have led our meeting with a hug… that was weird. My apologies,” the man said, smile still on his face even as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No need t-to apologize, m-my Lord,” Virgil said in quick response, ducking down into another shallow bow. “It is, uh, quite a lovely s-song.”

“Yes,” the other said almost wistfully, and he made to adjust his glasses again, though Virgil saw him discreetly wiping at his eyes. “And you play so wonderfully!” Virgil also noticed that the man had rather quickly jumped at the opportunity to deflect the conversation away and back onto him, but decided to just go with it.

Virgil felt his face flush at the compliment, and he internally wished that he could just sink out of their plane of existence. “Oh… uh… it, it’s n-not… that… g-good… haven’t really… p-played… in a w-while…”

“Oh? Well, you sound absolutely amazing!” Eyes flashing, the other added, “But don’t _flat_ out disregard your talents like that! With playing like that, my brother would have serious _treble_ keeping his self-proclaimed title of pianomaster.”

Both men froze, and then Virgil slapped a hand over his mouth as an unwarranted laugh somehow forced its way past his lips. The man giggled again at that, clearly pleased with himself, and then Virgil was full out laughing at the stupid play on words.

The laughter eventually faded back into silence, leaving both men red-faced and smiling, eyes flitting around the room, glancing at each other before eyes danced away again, not exactly sure what to say. “I, uh… your b-brother?” Virgil asked quickly, latching onto that detail as a conversation starter to rid the room of the silence. “D-Does he c-compose?”

The other’s face fell once again into the bittersweet smile he had worn earlier, and he laughed, sounding a tiny bit forced. “Oh, of course! He composed that song you were playing! He actually wrote it for me, that charmer.”

“Wow…” And Virgil really was impressed. While he had tended to make up his own melodies when playing, he had never gotten the hang of putting together more than a few measures of mismatched notes, let alone writing them down. Then again, he hadn’t ever really got the chance. “He seems really… t-talented. Though, the s-song seems a bit… off, for you…” Realizing what he had said, he quickly tried to remedy the blunt statement. “I, uh… I m-mean, it’s very p-p-pretty!”

The other giggled again, this time sounding genuine. “Oh, no, I get what you mean! I mean, we’ve now known each other for about, what, 2 minutes? But you can probably tell that I’m not really a mysterious, intellectual kind of guy that a slow song would seem to portray. He said he was going to write an upbeat, bubbly song, but found himself composing that instead.” The man smiled wistfully. “I love it so much.” Stepping a bit closer, his smile fell a tad as his eyes ran over the sheet music.

Virgil did have to agree, an upbeat song would seem to fit this sunny personalited man on the surface, but… he didn’t know. Already, the other had made it clear that more was under the surface. He was cheerful and funny, but also… longing. Lonely. A bittersweet mix like the song had seemed to portray.

The other’s eyes ran over the faded notes again, and his smile fell even more. “...He was going to teach me a second part. A duet we could do together. But... then he... well, you’ve probably heard all the rumors about that..”

And then it clicked. Of course, how could Virgil have been so stupid? Now that the other brought it up, Virgil could remember vividly the incident causing an uproar in town when he was young. When the eldest of the Lord runs off in a town starved for gossip, it was impossible for anyone to not have heard of it. For years, all that could be heard was speculation of why the son had run. Were the Lord and Lady abusive? Was it to get out of the arranged marriage set up with Lady Valerie from a neighboring town? Or had the man run off with someone? And if so, who?

Of course, even with news as big as that, there was a certain limit that the gossip reached before it became old news and boring to talk about. Virgil hadn’t heard of the eldest son in years except for in quiet whispers on the street, or in wise reminders that women passed along to their children, as to ‘not end up like the eldest Heart.’

“But, uh, no matter! Silly me, rambling on about myself. Of course, I should be asking about you! I deeply apologize!”

The other shook his head slightly as if to wave away the previous conversation completely, and Virgil was suddenly hit with the realization of how… _pure_ this man was. Not only just the aura around him, but how he had managed to make Virgil laugh within the first moments of meeting him. How he complimented him, even though the other got nothing out of it. Hugging him. Showing interest in him as a person. Trying to cover up the pain that obviously was still raw inside him.

How Virgil wasn't having so much trouble breathing anymore, no longer feeling that anxiety eating him up inside. 

All because of _him_ , somehow. 

Captivated by the wave of golden curls catching the glow of the candlelight, Vigil saw that it almost made the other look like he was glowing. A single tear was illuminated on his cheek, but that was quickly wiped away as the other then put back on his bright smile and turned back to the other. The light was now coming from behind the man, bathing his outline in an ethereal glow, and Virgil suddenly was filled with a protective urge to take this angel from this dark house, to hide him away from the world that dared make him cry, to keep him safe in a place where he could smile that smile he had seen before, where the other didn’t have to put up the similarly dazzling, but fake smile in order to hide the sadness behind it.

Now it was Virgil’s turn to shake his head. Geez, what was his problem? He had only known this man for 5 minutes, yet at the first sign of anything causing him sadness, he was ready to utterly destroy whatever the cause was. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. If anything, he should be running away, not wanting to taint this creature’s purity with his darkness.

“I… uh… n-n-no apologies n-needed, my Lord,” he stuttered quietly. “I d-don’t mind talking, uh, about y-you...:”

“Oh, you absolute sweetheart! But, really, tell me about yourself” the other said, forceful happiness seeming to be backing every word. “I’m assuming that you are my betrothed my parents have told me about! We’re to be married at the week’s end, and I haven’t even asked your name!”

“It’s… uh…” Thrown off by the sudden change, Virgil was stuck wondering if he should tell the other he didn’t have to force himself to be happy, maybe ask if he wanted another hug (that was a thing to make others feel better, yeah? It certainly had made him feel better), or if he should just continue. He never really was good at social cues.

“...My n-name is Virgil,” he finalized quietly. “And... it’s alright to b-be sad a-about what h-happened. To t-talk about it. You don’t… I m-mean, you don’t h-have to…” He gave up squeezing his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to look at the utter failure he had turned this conversation into.

And then… he heard a sob. Eyes snapping open, Virgil quickly looked over the man in front of him, who was now holding a fisted hand over his mouth, as if to try and contain the sobs. Virgil could see his eyes beginning to well up with tears again, and his eyes widened in fear. He hadn’t meant to make the other cry again! Had he said something wrong, or-

And then everything was right again, because his arms were wrapped around the man who had flung himself into his arms, and though he felt tears soak through to his chest, he could feel the man smiling into his suit. “Awww Virgil, you’re so sweet!” the other’s voice squealed, slightly muffled. Pulling back slightly, arms still loosely held around one another, Virgil felt the tension leave his shoulders as he saw the real smile, the bright and genuinely happy one, aimed at him.

“It’s r-r-really… uh…” Virgil could feel his face heating up again, this time for no apparent reason. “It’s n-not, I just… y-you shouldn’t have t-t-to hide that, um…” He buried his flushed face into the other’s shoulder, the other giggling as Virgil’s hair tickled his neck. “I’m s-s-sorry, I don’t k-know what I’m t-t-trying to s-say,” he muttered. The other just shushed him, lightly rubbing his back.

“It’s okay, I think I understand. And I appreciate it, I really do,” was the other’s only response, and then they were once again standing apart, facing one another in the dark and dusty room.

Another long stretch of silence fell between them, but this time, it felt comfortable... almost. A little awkward, yes, but with this man smiling at him, he didn’t feel at all uneasy.

Patton broke the silence as he once again fell into a fit of nervous giggles, twisting the sleeves of his suitcoat in his hands as he looked down at the dusty carpet. “My apologies. I… I haven’t really talked to many people besides my parents in… well, in a while. I don’t really... know how to… you know...“ He giggled again. “This… this really hasn’t gone according to plan, has it? I’m so sorry.”

Virgil just gave him a small smile in return, on a whim reaching out to stop his hands from ripping the fabric he was twisting tighter and tighter between his fingers. “Hey, d-don’t say that. To be h-honest, I’m not exactly the most social person, e-either. We’re b-both new at this.” Squeezing the other’s hands lightly in his own, he offered his own low laugh. “I m-mean, at least y-you can t-talk right. That’s s-s-something…”

Patton smiled, squeezing his hands in return. “Aww, Virge! I kinda think the stutter is cute! But, uh…” He shrugged ducking his head down as his cheeks flushed red under the freckles. “Thank you. That’s… that’s really reassuring. I’m just glad my parents weren’t there to see this,” he added jokingly. “I… uh, I feel like they wouldn’t have approved, anyway. Whole ‘it’s wrong to see the betrothed before they say it’s okay’ thing and all. Probably still wouldn’t approve of this.” He gestured at their linked hands. “The marriage is just to combine assets, I’m not sure that we’re actually supposed to… act married, you know? Two men and all, and I…” He froze, and then quickly pulled his hand away. “Oh my goodness, I didn’t even ask if it was okay, I’m so, so sorry, I-”

Virgil just took his hand again, squeezing it comfortingly and Patton slowed at the touch. “I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “It’s… comforting. Grounding.”

“Well… I’m glad. Because, I’ll admit it, I’m a cuddler!”

“No, r-really? The f-fact that we've already hugged twice within the p-past five minutes hadn't g-given me that thought at a-all!" Virgil added, smiling to show that it was in good nature.

The man smiled slightly, nudging him gently. “You hugged me that second time! I think we're even.”

Yet another silence fell over them, and then the other was suddenly apologizing, words stumbling over themselves as he tried to say all of them at once, and Virgil just sat back and watched, unsure of what to do. “I just wish…. We could redo this,” he finally finished, covering his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry.” Virgil could see that he was blushing from embarrassment again, and he thought wildly for some way to remedy it.

“We could,” he suddenly said, and he saw the other's eyes flick up to meet his. “I… uh… I m-messed up a l-l-lot too, and I…”.Taking a deep breath, he said the next bit so fast that it sounded more like a jumble of sounds. “D-Do you w-want to start over? I… uh... “

The other was smiling shyly and, putting a finger to the other’s lips to silence his nervous ramblings, he nodded. “I think I’d like that,” he said quietly.

Taking another step back, he flicked a strand of raven colored hair out of his eyes, then turned to face the smiling man in front of him. Bowing at the waist, Virgil greeted the man. “Good e-evening, my Lord. It s-seems that we are to be m-married.” And he tried, he really did, but the other just smiled his adorably sweet smile, not seeming to be bothered by the stuttering that drew him so far away from others.

Bowing in return, the man nodded in agreement. “It would seem so. Pray tell me what my betrothed calls himself?”

“Gentlemen first, my Lord,” Virgil said with a wink, and the man smiled.

“Patton Heart, my good sir. And who might you be?”

Taking the Lord’s pale hand in his tanned one, Virgil bent to lightly brush a kiss across the knuckles. “Virgil Veremund, at your service, my Lord,” he murmured against the warm skin, and then straightened to look into Patton’s dancing eyes. “Now, I’m rather curious to get to know my betrothed. First things first, the important questions. What’s your favorite animal?”

And then Patton was off, bounced from one topic to another as if he had been stockpiling these conversations and the torrent had finally been set free. Taking a seat cross-legged from the other, Virgil watched with a fond smile as the other excitedly asking his opinion on dogs, his favorite colors, what he enjoyed doing, and whatever other questions his racing mind managed to latch onto.

His excitable and cheerful demeanor reminded Virgil a lot of a stray dog he had once taken care of, throwing scraps of food to him in the alleyway behind his house when he was sure his parents weren’t looking. The way he jumped eagerly from one conversation to the next, tilted his head to the side to look at the other in concentration, and the way his eyes lit up whenever Virgil said something particularly interesting to him… yes, Patton was a puppy.

And even though this was still new and a bit frightening... Virgil was okay. Patton wasn’t at all what he expected and, surprisingly enough, that was just what he needed. Sitting across from the excitable man as he watched his tear-stained cheeks dry, he could finally take a breath and let go of his thoughts for a bit.

In a way, it was similar to the relief that the piano had provided him.

He could finally breathe. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can listen to the piano solo from the movie that inspired this scene [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCkZwcz9iAw). Whether this is the song Virgil plays or not is up to you :)
> 
> And ahh this felt a little too fast paced??? But these boys are both socially inept at this point, so I'm just gonna use that as an excuse... so... whoops?


End file.
